Faster than my Bullet
by BloodRedLust
Summary: Before Kurt, even before Dalton, Blaine was bullied too.  Dark theme, could possibly be triggery.  Based on the song 'Pumped up kicks' by Foster the People.


**Faster than my Bullet**

**Blaine**

**Rated T for dark themes**

**Big klisses to Nicole for beta'ing for me. Thanks bb! xoxox **

**Summary: Before Kurt, even before Dalton, Blaine was bullied too. Dark theme, could possibly be triggery. Based on the song 'Pumped up kicks' by Foster the People. **

**If you don't know the song, PLEASE listen to it first before you read. The acoustic version of it can be found here: www (dot) youtube (dot) com / watch ?v=maZuT3uR-gM**

-.-.-.-

I wasn't ready to go back to school. I knew it as sure as I knew my own name.

It had only been 9 days since the attack and I'd only been out of hospital for 4 of those. Still, I was doing better than Max. He was still in hospital.

Compared to him, I'd gotten off easy.

I didn't want to go back to Lincoln High. The idea of facing those guys again terrified me.

My dad thought it would be good for me to face up to them. To stand up to them.

But he didn't get it.

He wanted me to press assault charges on the guys who had attacked us, but I knew that if I ratted them out, things would only get worse for us.

No. I had to handle this on my own.

It was okay. I could do it. I had a plan.

As usual, my father left the house early. I forced myself to wait ten minutes after his car had backed out of the drive, just in case he had forgotten something and had to come back.

I couldn't risk being interrupted.

Finally, I let myself stand up. My hands were shaking with adrenalin. I was excited about what I was about to do.

I slipped the key to the locked box out of his top draw, turning it over and over again in my fingers, watching it shine.

Today, it was my turn to shine.

Kneeling, I pulled the small, carved timber box out of the bottom of my dad's closet, and slid the little silver key into the hole on its front. With trembling hands I opened the lid of the box.

My hands reached out to caress the cold, hard metal.

Today, I would get my revenge.

-.-.-

I drove slowly to school, taking much more care than I usually did, maybe because I was aware that my mind wasn't actually focussed on the road.

I was sitting at a stop light when I remembered my CD. I reached into my satchel and retrieved it quickly, sliding it into the player on my dashboard, and smiling as the soft, acoustic tune filled the car.

I loved this song. I always had liked it, but since the attack, things had changed. I felt a new affinity for this song.

The acoustic was so much better than the original version. You could actually hear the lyrics.

I was Robert. I sang along automatically. I knew the words well.

Robert's got a quick hand. He'll look around the room, he won't tell you his plan.  
>He's got a rolled cigarette, hanging out his mouth he's a cowboy kid.<br>Yeah, he found a six shooter gun. In his dad's closet hidden with a box of fun things, and I don't even know what.  
>But he's coming for you, yeah he's coming for you.<p>

I smiled. It fit me so well. Everything, every single word of this song seemed to apply to me. It was calling out to me. I couldn't deny it.

When it finished, I flicked back, letting it repeat. It was on the fifth run through by the time I got to school. I sat in my car, in the back row of the parking lot, waiting until it finished.

I didn't even realise until I went to get out of the car that I had been stroking the gun while I sang along.

I scanned the lot for my bullies. Maybe it was for the best that they weren't out here waiting for me today. After all, if I did this out in the open, it would be all over before it had even begun.

No, I would be much safer, and achieve a much better result if I did this inside the school.

I walked to my locker without incident. It was almost disappointing. My hand was inside my bag, touching the cold metal as I walked along. It was soothing to me. It made me feel strong.

No one could touch me now.

Some of the lacrosse guys were walking towards me, their letterman jackets flashing bright in my eyes, taunting me... but he wasn't with them. I had promised myself that I wouldn't react until I saw him.

I wanted him to be the first.

All the other kids with the pumped up kicks you'd better run, better run, outrun my gun.  
>All the other kids with the pumped up kicks you'd better run, better run, faster than my bullet.<p>

I sat in English class, practically frantic for someone to do or say something that I could react to, but nothing came.

The teacher called on me to answer a question, and I just stared at her blankly. I could see the concern in her eyes. She gave me a kind smile, and then asked someone else instead.

Why today, on the one occasion when I was actually prepared for it, was no one going to treat me like shit? It's almost like they knew.

It wasn't fair.

I had Algebra next. Again, nothing happened. Everyone was nice to me. There were no slurs. No homophobic comments. Not even a slam against the lockers as I walked between classes.

But I reasoned with myself. I hadn't seen Jack yet. That would all change once I saw Jack. Jack was the one I wanted.

Third period, Health and Wellness class. Jack was in this class with me. This would be my chance. I was excited now. I picked up my pace, a light spring to my step.

I was ready.

But when I walked in to the classroom, he wasn't there.

I took a seat against the inside wall of the classroom, in the back row, and sat back to watch the door. My satchel rested on my lap. My hand rested inside it.

Delilah walked in next, and she quickly scanned the room, smiling when her eyes found me. She gave me a quick, short wave.

I couldn't return it. I couldn't remember how to be friendly right now, I was too busy. Waiting. I took my eyes from hers and returned my gaze to the door.

Then he walked in. My fingers tightened on the gun.

All the other kids with the pumped up kicks you'd better run, better run, outrun my gun.  
>All the other kids with the pumped up kicks you'd better run, better run, faster than my bullet.<p>

He saw me then, and swooped between the tables, making a beeline for me in the back row. His voice was loud. I heard the word leave his mouth, the one he always called me. "Fudge packer". He thought it was hilarious.

And just for today, I agreed with him. I smiled up at him; laughing along with the name he had just called me.

My fingers fitted themselves around the butt of the gun. My pointer finger found the trigger, and traced it lightly.

I was shaking, but I didn't care. It felt good. I still felt like I was in control.

His smile faltered a little; apparently he found it a little off-putting that I was laughing along with his joke.

My arm twitched, and I withdrew it from the bag a little... just enough for him to catch a glint of the metal.

He froze then. I watched his face. His eyes widened in shock; in horror, as they drifted up, from the bag on my lap and up to my face.

All of a sudden, he was scared.

God, it felt good.

I felt powerful. I'd never felt like this before... not with Jack. He always made me feel weak. Wrong. Dirty.

But now I had a gun.

I wanted to sing. I wanted to see the fear in his eyes grow.

But it didn't happen.

Instead, he turned around, quickly, and ran out of the room.

'You'd better run, better run, faster than my bullet.'

I was up in a heartbeat. My desk wobbled as I pushed quickly out of it, using it as a springboard to leap after him, my satchel still clutched in my hand, pressed against my body.

The hall was empty, but I heard the creaky hinges of the locker room doors as they squeaked shut, and I jogged towards them. Jack was in there.

He was probably in there all alone.

This couldn't have been any more perfect.

When I got to the doors, two guys from the swim team were just passing through them, leaving the locker room. One of them held the door for me. I shot him a confused glance, but uttered a quick 'thanks'.

A quick glance told me it was empty... but I knew that wasn't true.

Because where else would my bully run to, but his sacred locker room. The one room he told me he would kill me if he ever found me in there, because I'm gay, and I might want to perv at his naked body.

Like I would ever get off on watching someone like him in the shower.

I'd had to quit the football team because of Jack. Apparently Fags weren't allowed to play sports at this school.

The coach didn't even question me when I resigned. Even he knew that I didn't belong here anymore.

My father was angry that I had quit the team. He thought that I should have stood up for myself.

I should have been a man about it.

But it was the words that he didn't say that I heard the clearest. He didn't think I was a man anymore. He thought I was a weak sissy. He thought I had changed.

Nothing had changed. I was still me; I just wasn't hiding the truth any more.

At home, everything had changed. My father didn't look at me the same way anymore.

Daddy works a long day. He'll be coming home late, yeah he's coming home late.  
>And he's bringing me his dark surprise. 'Cause dinner's in the kitchen and it's packed in ice.<br>I've waited for a long time. Yeah the sleight of my hand is now a quick-pull trigger.

A quick pull trigger. I had a trigger now. In fact, I had lots of them.

Being gay didn't make me less of a man. It didn't make me bad at football, or unworthy of being allowed to get changed in the changing rooms at school.

I heard a noise over to my left, and I casually strolled over towards the sound. The sight before me was almost comical.

Jack stood with his back to a row of lockers with a baseball bat in his hands.

I felt a wide smile creep upon my lips.

I adjusted my grip on the butt of the gun, and with my other hand, lowered the satchel to the ground, finally revealing my weapon to my victim.

Jack's hands trembled on the bat. He knew that it was no match for a bullet. It never was, really, but it especially wouldn't be with me standing 12 feet away from him.

I levelled the gun at him, steadying it with both hands. My feet were slightly apart, giving me good balance.

It would be just one quick clean shot. Right between his eyes.

I felt the power surge through me again.

He started to whimper. It excited me to hear his voice, so full of fear. He chanted out the Lord's name.

'_Oh God, Oh God, Oh God'_

I took a step closer, focussing on his face. He was sweating and pale.

His chanting reminded me of another song that I knew. The lyrics of that one spoke to me too, but not quite as much. Still, they were very appropriate for this moment.

"Do you believe in God, Jack?"

I stumbled over his name ... I had almost called him Cassie.

He shook his head, but I don't think it was in answer to my query.

"Look man, I'm sorry, okay? I'm really sorry for giving you shit about ... just please, dude, don't kill me. You don't want to do this. I'm not worth it."

I grinned at him. "Oh, I know. You're not worth shit. But you do deserve this. And I deserve revenge for what you did to me and Max."

"I'm sorry, Blaine. Tell Max I said I'm sorry."

I shook my head. "Max has a brain injury now, because of you. You can tell him you're sorry til you're blue in the face, it won't change things now."

I watched Jack slide to the floor, the bat falling from his hands as he used his arms to shield himself from me.

I could smell piss, and I felt a little shock to see that Jack's pants were wet.

He was getting what he deserved. I had every right to be enjoying this.

Except I wasn't.

I felt sick.

This wasn't me. I wasn't a bully. I wasn't a murderer.

My hands shook, and the gun wobbled a little in my grip.

I gasped in a breath, and lowered my hands.

I couldn't do it.

I watched the boy on the ground, sitting in his own filth, crying openly now because of the fear I had caused him, and I wanted to vomit.

In this moment, I was no better than him.

I stumbled to a low bench, sinking on to it, slumping over to stave off the sudden wave of dizziness that had washed over me.

I don't know how long I sat there, in a trance, before the sound of those squeaky hinges brought me to my senses.

I glanced over to the lockers. Jack was gone.

Voices behind me startled me, and I suddenly remembered the gun. I quickly shoved it up my shirt as I reached for my satchel, then slipped it back inside.

No one noticed me as I snuck out of the locker room, through a back hallway and out to the parking lot.

It was over. Tonight, after I had eaten a tv dinner by myself, while I waited for my dad to come home, I would search the internet to find myself a new school to go to.

But for now, I needed to sleep. I needed to escape reality, disappear into the oblivion of my dreams for a while.

I woke up alone, and it was dark out.

Why hadn't I been arrested yet?

I thought about Jack. Why hadn't he gone to the police? Had he told anyone?

About what I had nearly done to him, what I had done in that locker room.

My father got home at 10pm, and by then I had decided. I wanted to go to Dalton Academy, and just pretend that none of this had ever happened.

I would never tell a soul.

-.-.-.-

**So, apparently i just love writing Blaine in pain. Sorry guys. Please let me know what you think of this. Review are like air to me. :) **

**BRL**

**AN: Chapter 12 of Let Me Be is done and awaiting beta'ing ... should be up soon guys! **


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